by Lucy Lennox
He didn’t move.
This guy was really starting to piss me off. Clearly he was angry for some reason, but what that had to do with me, I wasn’t sure. I hadn’t been to town in fifteen fucking years—having left before our parents had even gotten engaged.
I rolled down the window and lost control of my patience.
“Get the hell out of my way, Officer Billingham,” I barked.
Several patrons of the store gasped and stared openly now, squinting at me through the bright sunlight of the cold fall day.
“What did you just say to me?” Curt bit out between clenched teeth.
“You heard me. Unless you have reason to detain me, get the fuck away from my car. This is harassment, and we both know it.”
His voice was low in response so that I was the only one who could hear it. “If you think I’m going to do one single thing to make your life easier in my town, Salerno, you’ve got another think coming. I’ll stand here all day if I want to.”
I threw the car back in park and turned the engine off, getting out of the car and slamming the door behind me. Every feeling of having been bullied by this fucker and others like him in my life came crashing down on me, and I had to remind myself that I was an adult now. I didn’t have to take his bullshit anymore.
“Man up, you chickenshit,” I shouted at him. “If you have something you want to say, then say it. But don’t hide behind your damned badge or stalk me like a jealous lover. You’ve followed me all over this goddamned town trying to intimidate me, and it isn’t working, you son of a bitch. Grow the fuck up.”
At the mention of being my lover, his face turned purple and a vein stood out in his neck. Oh ho, seemed I had found a tender spot in our local homophobe’s ego. Had he seriously not owned up to his sexuality in all this time?
He stepped forward and got in my face, his reflective lenses only inches from my forehead. I cursed my lame-ass genetics for making me so small compared to him, but whatever I lacked in body size, I was determined to make up for in attitude.
I gritted my teeth and fisted my hands beside my hips, trying so hard to remind myself that spending a night in the Hobie jail was a really bad idea, especially if it was run by this guy’s friends.
“Is there a problem here?” The voice was familiar and soothing, and it came out of the blue from somewhere behind me. Suddenly stupid-ass tears threatened to fill my eyes, and I blinked them back in annoyance.
Weston Wilde.
I closed my eyes for the briefest moment of gratitude before reminding myself I didn’t need help. I was fine on my own.
“No, no problem Dr. Wilde,” I said. “Just asking my dear brother here to kindly step away from my vehicle so I can pull my car out.”
When I referred to Curt as my brother, all hell broke loose. The officer lost his shit and pulled his arm back to strike. Before I could do the same or even defend myself, strong arms grabbed me around the waist and twisted me away, out of the trajectory of the meaty fist coming for me.
I scrambled against West and growled at him to let me go, but he murmured words of calm into my ear so low I couldn’t catch anything but the tone of them. My breath was heaving, and with each drag of inhale, I felt West’s arms tight around me. By the time I caught sight of Curt, two other men had a hold of him and were trying to keep him from coming after me again.
His sunglasses were gone, and his face was so deep red it was purple. He was shouting at me, and all I could make out were the words “trash,” “coward,” “sister,” “girlfriend,” and, finally, “faggot.”
The men pulled Curt away and convinced him to leave before we gathered even more attention than we already had. My heart was beating so fast I thought it might pound out of my chest and fly away. I was full of a mix of anger, fear, and grief all mixed into one, and Curt Billingham had become the very epitome of all the things I’d felt about my hometown all those years. Hatred, unwelcome, bigotry, homophobia, and violence. It was ugly and awful and reminded me how much I needed out of that place for good.
I twisted out of West’s arms and practically elbowed him away from me. I sure as hell didn’t need pity from any of these idiots—especially from the aw-shucks, goodie-two-shoes doctor with the kind eyes trying to calm me down.
Fuck that. No thanks.
I made my way back to my car and jerked the door open.
“Nico, wait. Let me help you get home,” West offered. The crowd around us had begun to disperse, and I realized my hands were shaking so hard I wouldn’t have been able to unlock the car if it hadn’t already been unlocked from before.
“I don’t need anyone’s help. I’m fine on my own.”
I said it with such fierce determination, I almost believed it myself.
Chapter 10
West
I stood in the parking lot staring after him. What the hell had just happened? How had a simple stop at the grocery store turned into a heated confrontation between Curt and Nico? Was Curt seriously holding grudges after all this time? Surely not. Nico hadn’t even been around when they’d lost the sheriff and Mrs. Billingham.
Curt still stood several cars away, trying to catch his breath. The men who’d held him back wandered off after several glances back toward me to make sure I wasn’t going to cause any trouble. I waved at them to let them know it wasn’t my fight, but I walked over to Curt to ask him about it.
“What the hell’s wrong with you, Curt?”
“That son of a bitch comes back here after all this time and just, what? Takes over where he left off?” Curt spat.
“What do you mean?”
“Everything Adriana left behind should have been left to us, not him. And that punk-ass piece of shit just waltzes back into town like nothing happened and takes over? Fuck that, West.”
“This is about the house? The bakery?” I asked in surprise. “What, did you want the baby too?”
I’d said it just to prove the point that the assets weren’t all financial. There were responsibilities laid on Nico’s shoulders that Curt wouldn’t have wanted if his life depended on it.
“Who’s he to you?” Curt asked, squinting at me without his reflective lenses on. He must have lost them in the scuffle.
“A… friend,” I said, testing the word on my tongue. It didn’t seem quite right. “Why?”
“I saw the way you touched him, the way you looked at him. You want to fuck him, don’t you?”
I was taken aback by his harsh language, the f-word sounding completely wrong in that scenario.
“None of your business,” I said with a laugh. “And considering you’re dating Chloe Metz, it’s particularly none of your business. What, is that jealousy you’ve got going on, Curt? Really?”
He looked around the parking lot, trying to be subtle about it, but I knew exactly what he was doing. The same old scaredy-cat dance.
I rolled my eyes. “Grow up,” I muttered, turning to walk into the store.
“I’d stay away from that freak if I were you, West,” he called out from behind me. “That family is nothing but trouble. Ask me how I know. Better yet, ask my brother.”
I shook my head as I walked away. After a quick run through the store to pick up my own groceries, I made my way back out to my truck and loaded up. Grandpa and Doc drove up in Grandpa’s old beat-up truck and pulled into the parking space beside me and rolled down Doc’s window.
“This is a surprise. Just getting groceries?” I asked.
“We spent the afternoon with Pippa,” Doc said with a grin. My heart did a familiar proprietary flip-flop whenever I thought about someone besides me having time with the baby, but I squelched it. This was my grandfather for god’s sake.
“You’re kidding? Nico let you watch her? Seriously?”
Grandpa got a twinkle in his eye as he glanced at Doc. “This guy’s a miracle worker. The plan worked like a charm. Nico said we can come as often as we want for a few hours a day to get our baby fix.”
“What?” I a
sked, frustrated. “That fucker won’t leave me alone with her for one damn minute.”
Doc chimed in. “Westie, has it ever occurred to you that maybe he doesn’t leave when you’re there because he enjoys your company?”
Warmth swirled in my gut at the thought, but I pushed it away.
“Ah, no. No freaking way. The guy hates me, and quite frankly, the feeling is kind of mutual.”
Grandpa and Doc exchanged a look before Doc smirked at me. “Sure, West. Whatever you say, boy.”
I gritted my teeth. He knew I hated when he called me boy. He did it to piss me off and make me feel like a kid, but I held my tongue out of respect for him regardless.
“So what’s he doing now? Did he look upset?”
“Who?” Doc said, all innocent and shit.
I huffed. “Never mind.” I turned to get into the truck and slammed the door behind me. Grandpa and Doc were laughing their fool heads off at me, but I ignored them. Bunch of assholes.
Even though I knew I wouldn’t be well received, I decided to stop by Nico’s place anyway. I wanted to make sure he was okay after the run-in with Curt, and on the way there, I thought about what my grandfathers had said.
Was it possible the guy was attracted to me? Could I get over my annoyance with the guy long enough to consider hooking up with him? And what about my vow never to trust someone I was only physically attracted to?
But I couldn’t stop thinking about how good it would feel to touch him, if only for a night.
It wasn’t that I was the kind of guy who hopped into bed with any old random person, but I also hadn’t had much time for relationships between college, med school, residency, and running my own practice. And I hadn’t been kidding when I’d said there were slim pickings in Hobie. Everyone I knew in town who was gay was related to me by blood with the exception of guys I knew too well like Stevie Mansell. And Stevie was jailbait. Not to mention way too flirty and sex-crazed for my taste. The guy had known me for all of two seconds before he had my belt open in the back room of someone’s Super Bowl party and was lowering himself to his knees despite my protestations. No thanks.
I pulled down the long drive to Nico’s place and mentally slapped myself for thinking of it as his place. Adriana hadn’t even been dead for two full weeks, and I already thought of her house as someone else’s? Maybe this was a mistake.
I parked the car and leaned my forehead against the steering wheel. I was an idiot. Was I really hoping to go in there and get lucky with Adriana’s brother? The guy who’d ditched her and left her to face the harassment and belittling of the Billingham family? No, Nico Salerno needed to account for his actions.
Instead of going in there and kissing the guy, I needed to go in there and confront him about what had caused him to bolt so long ago. That was what I needed to do. Make him explain himself.
I felt my jaw tighten in newfound ire as I hopped up the steps to the front porch and knocked.
There was no answer. I knocked again a minute later. Still no answer. By this time, I’d whipped myself up into a frenzy. The fear of him being hurt at the grocery store, Doc’s implication Nico might want me, the reminder he’d abandoned my friend into the hands of bullies, and the annoyance of Nico not answering the door all had twisted me up inside until I was ready to boil over.
“Open up this goddamned door!” I shouted, banging my fist against the wood even harder. “I know you’re here, your car is here.”
The glass rattled in the windows alongside the doorframe, and I had a moment’s realization that this kind of behavior wasn’t like me. What exactly was my problem?
“Nico, dammit!” I yelled again. “It’s West. Let me in.”
Still nothing. I turned around and looked back toward our vehicles and the clearing around the cars. No sign of him out front. I began to get a bad feeling in my gut and wondered if something had happened to him. Maybe he was inside and hurt. What if he was asleep and the baby needed him? Maybe he was out for the evening in someone else’s vehicle.
Could he have gone out with someone? If so, who? I ran my hands through my hair for the millionth time that day and turned back to peer in the window again. Nico was standing right there on the other side of the glass. I jumped a foot in the air, clutching my chest and trying not to screech like an idiot.
The look on his face was downright menacing, and I noticed he was dripping wet and covered with nothing but a short navy-blue towel wrapped around his waist. Oh shit, he’d been in the shower.
Nico yanked the door open and hissed at me. “West? What the fuck is wrong with you? Do you have any idea how long it took me to get Pippa down so I could take a fucking shower? Jesus Christ, you selfish prick. What do you want?”
His slim, inked fingers clutched the two corners of the towel together, and all I could see were miles and miles of Nico’s body. The muscles, the inked skin, the drips of water making their way slowly along all the angles and curves of his chest and arms, his thighs and calves. Surely the blood in my cock was pounding louder than my fists on the door moments earlier. I felt my mouth water and my tongue flex as if in anticipation for licking the droplets from his skin.
“West?”
“Huh?” I asked. “What?” I felt dizzy and unsure of what was happening. What was I doing there?
“I asked you what you wanted,” Nico grumbled at me. Even his angry voice was like a stroke to my desperate dick.
Your dick in my mouth or your hand on my cock—either way.
It was so clear to me in that moment, but I wasn’t about to say it. I couldn’t want him. I wouldn’t. I had to remember it was his actions fifteen years ago that had led to Adriana feeling incredibly lonely as an adult.
“I… I…” I swallowed thickly. “I just came to see if you were okay.”
Really, West? That’s what you’re going with? Ask him about why he left Hobie. Ask him about Curt. Ask him if he knows about Adriana and Reeve. Ask him if, god forbid, he left because you’re the one who put the fucking idea in his head.
“I’m fine,” Nico said. “But I can tell that’s not the real reason you came, so spill it.”
“Oh, ah. Well… there’s this bonfire thing tomorrow night, and… um…”
Oh my god.
Nico’s glare turned into a smirk. The sexy edge of his mouth turned up in a teasing way that did nothing to help calm my dick down. “I know about the bonfire. A guy named Stevie offered to take me.”
In that moment, I swear to god, I wanted to kill everyone and everything. The day had escalated to a point beyond which I just could no longer maintain my sanity.
“No fucking way,” I snapped. “You’re not going anywhere with that kid. Forget it.”
Nico’s eyes widened, and I noticed his jaw tense at the same time.
“Since when did I need your permission, Dr. Wilde?” he sneered back. “You’re not my mother.”
“No, I’m not your mother,” I growled. “In case you forgot, you decided long ago you didn’t need a mother.”
The minute, the very second, those words were out of my mouth, I knew I could never take them back, even though I would have given anything to do so in that moment. I didn’t even know what possessed me to say it.
The hard smack against the side of my face came fast and furious, spinning me around with its intensity. I deserved it. I knew I did, but at that point, I had no more control over my mouth than I did my feelings.
“Get out!” Nico shouted at me. “Get the fuck out of my house!” His voice was a cross between angry and horrified, and my heart felt like it was going to shatter right there on the floor.
“I’m sorry for what I said, Nico, but I’m not leaving,” I said, pushing my way in and holding up my arms to block his subsequent blows. I was so much bigger than he was I could have easily gotten him in some kind of hold so he couldn’t hit me, but I didn’t want to use my size against Nico.
“Yes you are, goddammit!”
“Nico, wait,” I tried, grabbi
ng for his flailing arms at least. At this point, his towel slipped off and he was completely naked, fighting me. I was both angry and turned on, which in turn made me disgusted with myself.
“Leave! Leave now. You don’t know a fucking thing about me.” His shouting turned to sobbing like the flick of a switch, shocking both of us. “Get off me. Get away from me, West… please.”
The last word was a whimper just as he gave up the fight and collapsed against my chest in a heap. His balled fists went from pounding to clutching at my chest. I wrapped my arms tightly around him and slid us both down to the wooden floor, my back against the front door. The clean, masculine scent of his body wash or shampoo swirled around us in the air.
“Shhh,” I said into his ear. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Nico. I didn’t mean it. I’m so sorry.” My words came out over and over like the rhythmic cadence of his hitching breaths.
He was curled into a ball in my lap, all slender arms and legs. His hair was a damp twist of color, and he pressed his face into my neck as he let out shuddering tears.
“She’s gone, West.” It was softly spoken, and I almost didn’t catch it. “They’re both gone and I never got to say goodbye.” I realized then that he’d never had a chance to mourn his mother even though she’d been gone for years. As far as Nico felt, she might as well have died just the week before. My heart broke for him.
“I know, baby. I know,” I murmured back, trying to calm his breathing and not really realizing what I was saying. “I miss Adriana too. So goddamned much.”
“I… I… used to follow her around everywhere. I just wanted her to like me… And my mom… She’s the only person who—” His breathing was still catching, and he was having trouble regulating his breath.
“Shhh, it’s okay. Just breathe, Nico.” I held my arm tightly around his body and used my free hand to brush the wet strands off his face.
We sat in a heap together like that, each of us taking comfort from the other’s touch without either of us speaking. I listened to the catches of his breath, felt the warm fingers of his hands grasping my shirt, and pressed my lips to his temple.
